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HERE's a health to all good lasses,
Pledge it merrily, fill your glasses,

Let the bumper toast go round;
May they live a life of pleasure,
Without mixture without measure,

For with them true joys are found.

WITHIN this shelter'd mossy dell,
From mortal ken, we fairies dwell,
When the garish eye of day
Beams abroad its golden ray.
Light dancing on the daisied ground,
Our wanton rings we trace around,
When the moon, with paly light,
Gems the modest brow of night.
Around the mushroon's tawny breast,
'Tis there we hold our elfin feast;
Honey'd stores of saffron hue,
Acorn cups of nectar'd dew.
O sweetly thus our moments fly,
Till soon the rosy dawn we spy;
Then to taste the balmy sleep
In purple bells we softly creep.


We roam thro' the forest and over the mountain,

No joys of the court or the banquet like this; And then sunset glowing by some leafy-fountain,

To crown our red goblet with young beauty's kiss..

Then end our bright evening with dance and with sing

ging, Till night spreads her mantle o'er vale and o’er wood; Thro’ rock and thro’ forest our horns gaily ringing, Farewell to the day star that sets in the flood.

Follow hark, &c. Or should icy winter be hailing or snowing,

Or summer look red thro' the yellow bair'd corn; Or breezes.are flowing or wild winds are blowing,

Still rings thro' the forest the huntsman's gay horn. Then end our bright evening with dance and with sing

ing, Till night spreads her mantle o'er vale and o'er wood; Thro' rock and thro’ forest our horns gaily ringing, Farewell to the day-star that sets in the flood.

Follow hark, &c.


CHAIRS to mend! old chairs to mend!
Rush or cane bottom, old chairs to mend!
New mackerel! new mackerel!
Old rags! any old rags!

Take money for your old rags!
Any hare skins, or rabbit skins.


With my pipe in one hand, and my jug in the other

I drink to my neighbors and friend,
All my cares in a whiff of tobacco I smother,

For life, I know, shortly must end;
And while Ceres, most kindly, refills my brown jug,

With good liquor I'll make myself mellow;
In an old wicker chair I'll seat myself snug,

Like a jolly and true hearted fellow. I'll ne'er trouble my head with the cares of the nation,

I've enough of my own for to mind, For the cares of this life are but grief and vexation,

To death we must all be consign’d; Then I'll laugh, drink, and smoke, and leave nothing to

pay, But drop like a pear that is mellow, And when cold in my coffin, I'll leave them to say

He's gone, what a hearty good fellow!


THE glasses sparkle on the board,

The wine is ruby bright,
The reign of pleasure is restored,

Of ease and fond delight.
The day is gono, the night's our own,

Then let us feast the soul;
If any care or pain remain,
Why drown it in the bowl.

This world they say, is a world of woe,

But that I do deny;
Can sorrow from the goblet flow?

Or pain from beauty's eye?
The wise are fools with all their rules,

When they would joys control:
If life's a pain, I say again,

Let's drown it in the bowl.
That time flies fast, the poet sings;

Then surely it is wise,
In rosy wine to dip his wings,

And seize him as he flies.
This night is ours; then strew with flowers

The moments as they roll: If any care or pain remain,

Why drown it in the bowl.

Or all the guests a landlord sees

Within Toledo's walls,
Give me a fat Friar who sits at his ease,

And stoutly about him calls,
With his head so bald, and his gown so black,
And his nose so red, and his beads-good lack!
Yet only set by him a bottle of sack!

Tney smile at each other,

Both bottle and brother;
He kisses the glass with a hearty smack,

Good lack! good lack!

'Tother bottle of sack, Yes, Father, says I-and it's off in a crack. The Doctor can swallow a poor man's fees;

The soldier can swallow a bail; The Lawyer, I'll venture whatever you please,

Will swallow the devil and all.

But of all who at swallowing have a good nack,
I never had yet such a friend to my back,
As a Friar who swallows a bottle of sack,

Then call for some more,
While I set up a score,
"Tother bottle of sack,
Good lack! good lack!

Yes, father, &c.

A GLASS is good and a lass is good,

And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;
The world it is good, and the people are good,

And we're all good fellows together,
A bottle it is a very good thing,

With a good deal of very good wine in it;
A song is good, when a body can sing,

And to finish, we must begin it,
A table is good, when spread with good cheer,

And good company sitting round it;
When a good way off, we are not very near,
And for sorrow the devil confound it.

A glass is good, &c.
A friend is good, when you're out of good luck,

For that's a good time to try him;
For a justice good, the haunch of a buck,

With such a good present you buy him,
A fine old woman is good when she's dead,
A rogue's very good for good hanging;
A fool is good by the nose to be led,
And my good song deserves a good banging.

A glass is good, &c.

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